(There is an obscene amount of sexual content in this chapter, please if you're not into it, skip it)

Bright sat on the edge of his cot, staring at his hands.

They were steady. Strong. Enhanced by the body core he'd absorbed weeks ago.

But they felt empty.

Like they should be holding something—a blade, a purpose, something—but there was only air.

Hailen was dead.

The thought kept circling back, relentless, grinding against the inside of his skull like a blade on a whetstone.

He taught me how to survive. And now he's gone.

A soft knock came at the door.

Bright didn't move. "It's open."

The door creaked, and Mara stepped inside, closing it quietly behind her.

She looked different in the dim lamplight—softer somehow, without her blades strapped to her sides. She wore a simple tunic and loose pants, her hair down instead of tied back for combat.

She had changed a lot from the timid girl she once was in the squad assigned to him.

"Hey," she said quietly.

"Hey."

Mara hesitated near the door, then moved closer, sitting down on the cot beside him. Not touching. Just… present.

"Duncan told me," she said. "About Hailen."

Bright nodded.

"I'm sorry."

"Everyone's sorry," Bright said, voice flat. "But sorry doesn't change anything."

Mara didn't respond right away. She just sat there, hands folded in her lap, breathing in sync with the silence.

Finally, she spoke. "When I lost my parents—back before I enlisted—I thought I'd never feel anything again. Like grief had hollowed me out and left nothing behind."

Bright glanced at her.

"But it wasn't emptiness," Mara continued quietly. "It was… weight. Like someone had filled that hollow space with stones. And I carried those stones everywhere. Every fight. Every patrol. Every moment."

She turned to face him. "You're carrying stones right now, aren't you?"

Bright exhaled slowly. "Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No."

The word hung between them, simple and raw. Mara nodded, her hand lifting slowly, hesitating before resting lightly on his arm. Her touch was warm, tentative, like she was testing the waters of his grief.

Bright didn't pull away. The contact grounded him, a small anchor in the storm raging inside. He turned his head, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were steady, filled with an understanding that cut through the fog in his mind.

"I don't know how to do this," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hailen… he was a lot. And now the match is coming, and I feel like I'm going to shatter."

Mara's fingers tightened slightly on his arm. "You don't have to do it alone." She shifted closer, her thigh brushing against his. The proximity sent a spark through him, unexpected and sharp.

Before he could process it, she leaned in. Her lips met his—soft at first, a gentle press meant to comfort. Bright froze, his virgin body unaccustomed to the heat blooming in his chest. But then instinct took over. He kissed her back, his mouth moving against hers with a hunger he didn't know he possessed.

The kiss deepened quickly. Mara's hand slid up to his neck, pulling him closer as her tongue slipped past his lips, tasting him. Bright groaned into her mouth, his enhanced hands finally finding purpose as they gripped her waist, pulling her onto his lap.

Anger simmered beneath the desire—the raw, burning fury at losing Hailen, at the world that kept taking from him. It fueled him, turning the kiss into something fierce. He bit her lower lip, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make her gasp. Mara didn't pull back; instead, she ground her hips against him, feeling the hardness growing in his pants.

"Private," she murmured against his mouth, her breath hot and ragged. "Let it out. Whatever you need."

He needed this. Needed to feel alive, to claim something in the face of all the loss. His hands roamed up her tunic, fingers tracing the smooth skin of her back before yanking the fabric up and over her head. Mara lifted her arms, helping him discard it, her breasts spilling free—full and heavy, nipples already hardening in the cool air of the room.

Bright stared for a moment, mesmerized. He'd never seen a woman like this, never touched one. His cock throbbed painfully against his trousers as he cupped one breast, thumb brushing over the peak. Mara arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her.

"Like this?" he asked, voice rough, his anger channeling into every movement.

She nodded, guiding his head down. "Suck them. Hard."

He obeyed, latching onto her nipple with his mouth, sucking deeply while his tongue flicked against it. Mara's fingers tangled in his hair, holding him there as she rocked against his lap. The friction drove him wild; he switched to her other breast, biting down just enough to make her cry out.

The sound ignited something primal in him. Bright's hands moved to her pants, fumbling with the ties in his inexperience. Mara helped, shimmying them off along with her undergarments, leaving her bare on his lap. Her pussy was wet already, slick heat pressing against the bulge in his pants.

"Fuck," he growled, the anger surging as he shoved her back onto the cot. Mara landed with a bounce, legs spreading instinctively. Bright stood, stripping off his own shirt and pants in hurried motions, his cock springing free—thick and veined, untouched until now, pre-cum beading at the tip.

Mara's eyes widened slightly, then darkened with lust. "Come here," she said, reaching for him.

But Bright wasn't gentle. The grief twisted into rage, and he needed to release it. He grabbed her thighs, yanking her toward the edge of the cot, and positioned himself between her legs. His enhanced hands gripped her hips hard, fingers digging into her flesh as he thrust forward.

The head of his cock nudged her entrance, slick and ready. Mara gasped, her hands clutching the sheets. "Bright—slow—"

He didn't listen. Anger blinded him; he slammed into her in one brutal push, burying his cock deep inside her pussy. Mara cried out, her walls clenching around him, tight and hot. Bright paused, buried to the hilt, the sensation overwhelming—virgin no more, but the intensity made his vision blur.

"Too much?" he panted, holding still, his body trembling with the effort.

She shook her head, eyes locked on his. "No. Keep going. Use me."

That was all he needed. Bright pulled back and thrust again, harder, his hips snapping forward with pent-up fury. Each drive into her pussy was a release, pounding out the pain of Hailen's death, the fear of the match ahead. Mara met him thrust for thrust, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his enhanced strength letting him lift her hips higher, angling to hit deeper. His cock stretched her, sliding in and out with wet, obscene sounds that filled the dim room.

Mara moaned, her nails raking down his back. "Harder, Bright. Let it all out."

He did. He fucked her relentlessly, the cot creaking under them. Sweat slicked their bodies, his balls slapping against her ass with every plunge. The anger poured out— in the way he gripped her thighs, leaving bruises; in the rough kisses he planted on her neck, sucking marks into her skin.

Mara's hands explored him too, one sliding down to where they joined, her fingers circling her clit as he pounded into her. "Yes—right there," she gasped, her pussy fluttering around his cock.

Bright felt it building, that pressure in his core, but he wasn't ready to stop. He pulled out suddenly, flipping her onto her stomach with ease, his enhanced hands manhandling her like she weighed nothing. Mara pushed up onto her knees, ass in the air, and he didn't hesitate—slamming back into her from behind.

"Gods, yes," she cried, pushing back against him. His cock drove deeper this way, hitting spots that made her tremble. Bright reached around, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing roughly as he fucked her pussy with short, brutal strokes.

The room smelled of sex and sweat, the lamplight casting flickering shadows over their joined bodies. Bright's mind raced—flashes of Hailen's face, the battlefield, the impending match—but each thrust buried it deeper, replaced by the raw pleasure of Mara's heat gripping him.

"Turn over," he demanded after a while, voice hoarse. He wanted to see her face, to connect through the anger. Mara rolled onto her back, legs spreading wide. Bright hooked her ankles over his shoulders, folding her in half as he thrust back in.

This angle let him go even deeper, his cock bottoming out with every slam. Mara's breasts bounced with the force, her moans turning to screams. "Bright—I'm close—fuck me harder!"

He obliged, his hips pistoning like a machine, enhanced endurance keeping him going without falter. His hand wrapped around her throat—not choking, just holding, a possessive grip that made her eyes roll back.

"Cum for me," he growled, thumb pressing on her clit. "Take it all."

Mara shattered first, her pussy convulsing around his cock, milking him as she came with a wail. Her juices soaked him, dripping down his balls. The sight—the feel—pushed Bright over the edge. He thrust once, twice more, then buried himself deep, roaring as he came. Hot spurts of cum filled her pussy, pulsing out in waves that left him shaking.

They collapsed together, Bright's weight pinning her to the cot, his cock still twitching inside her. For a long moment, neither spoke, breaths ragged in the quiet room.

The anger ebbed, replaced by a hollow ache—but lighter now, shared. Mara stroked his back, her touch gentle again. "Feel better?"

Bright lifted his head, meeting her gaze. "Yeah. A little."

She smiled faintly. "Good. The match waits for no one. But you're not alone in this."

He nodded, pulling out slowly, watching his cum leak from her pussy. The sight stirred him again, but time pressed. He helped her clean up, the intimacy lingering in stolen touches.

As they dressed, the weight of Hailen's loss returned, but tempered now—fueled into something he could wield, like a blade honed sharp.

This act he took part in today was a far cry from the usual Bright. He was not like this—and he did not plan to become it. Most of what was done in that room would never leave it. He sealed it all away, bottled tight and buried deep.

The door to the arena awaited. And Bright stepped toward it, ready.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.